


You're The Sunlight To My Nightmare

by heyitsalyssa



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Blood, Death, Dreams, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares, Phan - Freeform, it is fluffy by the end I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 01:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5477558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitsalyssa/pseuds/heyitsalyssa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dan has a bad dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're The Sunlight To My Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about the fact that, while writing The Urge for tabinof, (spoiler alert if you haven't read that) Dan talks about what it is like after Phil dies. And though he is obviously exaggerating it, I wondered how weird that was for him to write all that. And I wondered if maybe, just maybe, he thought about it too much and it got too real and it sort of burrowed into his brain for a while.  
> And then whatever this is happened.  
> Also, I'm totally shit at titles. I hate them. They are the bane of my existence. Please forgive me.

Dan read over what he’d written and felt a strange constricting feeling in his chest as undeniable anxiety curled up in his stomach like a snake looking for warmth. He’d been deliberately exaggerating his writing of course, but writing The Urge had forced him to think about Phil dying, much too vividly and in such a concrete way. It was making him feel genuinely anxious. It really brought into focus for him that it could happen at any time. So, instead of facing that, he decided instead to save the document, close his laptop and climb into bed instead, his room dark but for his amber lamp on the end table. He was just about to fall asleep when it hit him that the flat seemed particularly quiet despite it still being relatively early — which, for them, meant it was about midnight. _What was Phil doing?_

“Phil?” he called out through their shared wall. “Phiiill?”

“Dan?” he heard Phil call back.

“I just wondered if you were up. G’night.”

“Goodnight.”

Comforted, Dan slid down in bed and fell asleep. But he wasn’t sleeping long before something woke him up. Bleary-eyed, he shot awake, unsure what the sound was, his hands rooting around his bed in search for his phone before his brain could even explain why. For that was what the sound was, the ringing of his cell phone. He noticed both the time — 3:13 am — and the unfamiliar number in the moments before he answered the phone.

“Hello?” he answered, his voice thick with sleep.

“Is this Dan?” said a girl’s voice on the other end. She sounded close to hysterics.

“Yes?” Dan’s heart jumped. “Who is this?”

“You need to come. Your friend, Phil. He’s hurt.”

With that, Dan was fully awake. “Where?”

“Manchester.”

_What the fuck was Phil doing in Manchester? How?_

“At the university.”

Dan was so confused but he got dressed and threw on a coat. His confusion only increased as he left the flat because suddenly he was stepping out of his dormitory at the University of Manchester. Rather than question it, he just looked around for Phil or the girl who had called him. It was snowing and his jeans were damp to the knee within seconds as the snow deepened seemingly an inch every minute.

How long had he been running? Had it been only a few minutes? Or had it been hours now? He couldn’t be sure. Time had seemed to cease. And then there it was. As if a scene from a movie, there was a lone streetlight and the scene lit below it was one of horror. He slowed as if walking through molasses.

Red. At first all he saw was red. Red rivers running between the cobblestones. And then there was Phil. Splayed out on the stones. His hair, always too dark for his pale skin now looked darker than a black hole and served only to accentuate the now bloodless white of his flesh. His eyes were open and lighter than he’d ever seen them. He seemed to be made in greyscale, shades of white and silver and grey, except for the red that colored his chest so violently, surrounding a ragged hole in his tee shirt. It seemed a living thing, that splash of color, the only living thing in this moment.

Dan fell to his knees. He didn’t notice that the girl was still there until she spoke up.

“I’m so sorry.” She sounded close to tears and though he knew it was wrong, he hated for that. She was no one, what right did she have to feel sad at Phil’s death?

“What happened?” Dan asked, finally looking at her. They were at eye level; he was so tall and she was so small. She was young, younger than she’d sounded on the phone despite her hysteria, in fact she couldn’t have been more than 12.

“He saved my life,” she said. It was not what he’d expected to hear. “I don’t even know his name and he saved my life.” Her voice was so small and broken but bright somehow, that it reminded him of a lonely bird or a broken silver bell and there was something about it that broke his heart. “These guys — I don’t know who they were — these big guys, they were following me. And I started running but they were fast. They threw me on the ground and said horrible things and they had a knife and —” she hiccuped back a sob. “He ran over and tried to stop them, he was so bright, I thought he was an angel. I thought I was gonna die and he would take me to heaven. I didn’t see everything, I had my eyes shut. But I saw the knife flash and then he just sort of...stopped. Like a toy that broke. And I was crying and they were all yelling and then they ran away and he fell to the ground and I sat here with him trying to hold in all the blood but I couldn’t. It slipped through my fingers. And then I saw his phone on the ground and I remembered I should call someone for help and — please help.”

He looked at Phil’s eyes again. There was nothing he could do to help. Nothing anyone could do. He knew that. He closed Phil’s eyes —

—and then he was awake. He was lying in his bed, back in their flat, his chest heaving and tears streaming down his face. He was covered in sweat and he couldn’t quite catch his breath. He threw the covers away from him and stood. Restless, he had to do something. The clock on his table said 3:14 am. He stumbled through the dark over to Phil’s room. Phil was sleeping, Dan could hear him, lightly snoring.

Trying not to make a sound, he crawled into his bed and wrapped his arms around Phil, as if to reassure himself that he was alive. The dream had felt so real, the devastation had felt so real.

He tried to nuzzle into the back of Phil’s neck but Phil turned over. “Dan?” he asked sleepily. “Are you alright?”

“I’m sorry,” said Dan, realizing that he was crying. Sobbing, really. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“What’s wrong?” They were so close, they didn’t really need to talk. They spoke with more the movement of lips uttering barely a sound.

“I had a dream that you died. You were stabbed and there was blood everywhere. And there was a little girl and she called me and I ran all the way to Manchester and you were dead. Oh god there was so much blood. How could there have been so much blood?” The words were coming so quickly, falling over each other to escape in his hysteria. Phil didn’t say anything for a moment but rather placed a hand on either side of Dan’s face and held him there firmly.

“Look at me,” he said. Dan did. The moonlight reflected in Phil’s eyes so that they looked some otherworldly color that he had no name for. “I’m not dead.”

Smiling slightly, Dan pressed his hand to Phil’s chest and felt his heart beating away, calmly and steadily. “Are you sure?” His own heartbeat was slowly returning to normal. The dream was fading away.

“Didn’t believe me?” Phil asked.

“I had to check. Just to be sure.”

Phil laughed lightly and kissed his cheek, as if to reassure him that he was indeed alive. “You good?”

Dan nodded.

“Good night,” Phil said and it sounded like _I love you_.

“Good night.” Dan turned and snuggled down and into Phil pulling his arms around him like a blanket.

 


End file.
